


The "Oh" Thing

by chellefic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: casa_mcshep, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-01
Updated: 2009-07-01
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellefic/pseuds/chellefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving in together changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The "Oh" Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, to Grrrl.

"Will you marry me?"

Lowering his beer can without actually taking a drink, John glanced at the man next to him. Broad shoulders, hair on the left side sticking up a little, beer cradled in two large pale hands, legs swinging as he sat on the edge of the pier. Yup, that was Rodney. John raised his beer to his lips and took a small drink. "Why?"

"Neither of us is getting any younger. You don't have those stupid regs anymore, and I thought it'd be nice to have someone to come home to."

"We're not sleeping together."

"Well, no, but I hear married people don't have all that much sex either."

John snorted. "That's true." 

Rodney's shoulders hunched a little more. Maybe it was the cold, but John suspected it was something else. Rodney and Keller had been over for six months, but the effects seemed to be lingering. Rodney had been so sure she was the one, and John had been happy for him. He still didn't know why it had crashed and burned, and he doubted Rodney did either.

Placing a hand on Rodney's shoulder, John squeezed. "If you want someone to come home to, we could always move in together. Get one of those swanky places in the east tower."

Rodney pointed across the water toward a set of empty quarters. "I like it better over there. Closer to the water."

"Then that's where we'll move."

***

"I'd like to ask for new quarters." John knew how this was going to look, but he could deal with funny looks.

"You've certainly earned larger quarters," Woolsey said. "Although it would probably be best if you stayed fairly close to the gate room."

"There's a place with three rooms near the south pier. Rodney and I were thinking of rooming together."

Woolsey's lower jaw dropped slightly, but he schooled his face into a professional mask more quickly than Elizabeth ever had. "Of course. Why don't you each take an extra day off for packing?"

"Thanks," John said, grateful for Woolsey's smooth professionalism.

"You're welcome," Woolsey answered, the warmth in his tone making John smile.

Now John just needed to recruit the muscle, as Rodney called it. It wasn't as if either of them had that much to move, but less griping was always better and the more help they had the less Rodney would gripe. Glancing at his watch, John started for the mess.

"I need a favor," John said, sliding into a chair opposite Ronon's. 

Ronon took a bite from his sandwich. 

"Rodney and I are going to room together, and we could use some help moving stuff."

"Sure," Ronon said.

John stared at him for a moment. Maybe this whole roommates thing wouldn't look as weird to people as he'd thought. "Thanks." John stood. One set of muscle down, one to go.

Lorne was on the shooting range testing the new recruits. "Major," John said, stopping next to him.

"Sir."

"How are they doing?"

"Not bad."

They both knew SGC recruits were head and shoulders above pretty much everyone else. "I'm moving quarters."

"What time should I be there?"

"0900. I'll supply the coffee." Turning to go, John patted his shoulder. "You're a good man, Lorne. I don't care what anyone says."

John was almost to the door when Lorne called out, "Colonel."

John stopped. 

"I like my beer in a bottle. Not a can."

"Budweiser is an all-American brew."

"It's swill, sir."

"What do you think of Molson?"

"It'll do."

"I'll make sure it's in a bottle."

***

"How come we don't have to share your beer?" Rodney asked, watching Lorne tilt his head back and take a long drink.

"Lorne doesn't share my plebian tastes," John said. "Unless you want to move that monstrosity you call a couch by yourself, I'd stop complaining."

Rodney stopped complaining.

When Lorne had found out Rodney was moving too, he'd looked at John then at Ronon, who'd shrugged. After what could only be called a pregnant pause, he'd said, "Well, sir, he does have nice eyes," causing Ronon to laugh, Rodney to gape and John to snort coffee out his nose.

***

After Ronon and Lorne left, John stood in the center of the room and put his hands on his hips, turning slowly as he surveyed the space. Rodney's couch was against one wall, with a low table in front of it. There was a desk in between the entrance to their separate rooms, although John was pretty sure they'd both do most of their work at the table in front of the windows. John's refrigerator now had a cupboard type thing next to it with a coffeemaker on top.

They just needed to unpack their clothes and books. The bookshelves would probably fit along the wall near the bathroom.

Rodney was moving toward the desk with a hammer in one hand and a picture frame in the other. John jogged over on an intercept course.

"No," John said, looking at the picture of Rodney posing with one of his degrees. "You are not hanging that picture in our living room."

"Why not?" 

"You can hang your degrees. I don't have a problem with that," John said, responding to the tiny undercurrent of hurt beneath the annoyance in Rodney's voice. "But I think you should put up the picture of you and Madison that Jeannie sent."

Rodney frowned. "I'm asleep."

"So's Madison." Rodney was still frowning, so John added, "It's a good picture." It was. Madison was asleep in Rodney's lap and he was resting his cheek against her hair, eyes closed. 

"I suppose I could print out a copy," Rodney said. "What about your family? Didn't Dave send you a family portrait a couple of months ago?"

"We could put that up, sure," John said, kind of pleased that Rodney had remembered.

"And maybe one of Torren."

"And his parents." 

"Elizabeth," Rodney suggested.

"Yeah," John said. "Definitely Elizabeth."

***

No one commented on their new living arrangements, at least not where John could hear them. John put it down to a healthy dose of respect for both of them. 

Or maybe just a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Although when he'd told Teyla she had smiled and patted his arm in a way which implied that he wasn't a complete idiot, despite not having a second 'x' chromosome.

So he was completely surprised when during a post-mission physical Keller said, "Just because it didn't work out between us, doesn't mean I don't care about him."

John nodded, because she had a tongue depressor in his mouth, which he was pretty sure wasn't even necessary, and he wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

"Hurt him, and every exam you ever get in this infirmary will involve poking in places you didn't know you had."

John was tempted to point out that she was the one who'd hurt Rodney not him, but he had his own sense of self-preservation, so he nodded and said, "Got it."

***

Aside from going to his old quarters on automatic pilot a couple of times, John settled into their new place pretty easily. Most nights they went home together after dinner. Rodney would poke about on his laptop for a bit at the table before joining John on the couch for an episode of Batman or a round of video golf. 

Mornings were a little trickier. Fortunately, Rodney couldn't use up all the hot water no matter how long he lingered in the shower, but he was forever leaving his wet towels on the floor.

Overall, Rodney had been right. It was nice to have someone to come home to.

For their first day off, John planned ahead and when Rodney woke up John was sitting at the table in his sweats, sipping from his coffee mug. There were two berry muffins in front of Rodney's seat. Rodney poured himself a cup of coffee then sat in his chair, directly across from John.

Rodney took his time eating, then leaned back and stretched out his legs, his bare toes brushing John's.

"The muffins were a good idea," Rodney said.

"Yup."

***

John had known Rodney had a real stereo system. Most of Atlantis had MP3 players or just used their laptops, but not Rodney.

So John wasn't completely surprised when he came home to find the sound of something classical and vaguely familiar drifting out of Rodney's room.

The door to Rodney's room was open, and John looked inside. Rodney was lying on his bed, eyes closed. Apparently sensing John's presence, he opened his eyes.

"Hey," John said softly, not wanting to block out the music.

"Hi."

Stepping into the room, he tried to place the music. It was familiar, but not. "What are you listening to?"

"Beethoven's second."

John frowned.

"It's on period instruments and the conductor drew on Beethoven's original notations."

"Ah."

Rodney slid over on the bed, making room for John. "You can listen if you like."

Not having anything better to do, and liking the way the late afternoon sun was slanting through the windows making the room feel warm and relaxing, John settled onto the bed next to Rodney. 

John listened to the music and to Rodney as he pointed out the changes in instrumentation and tempo. It wasn't a surprise that Rodney could pick out the subtle differences between instruments, but the interest in music was. "I didn't know you were a music expert."

"I used to play."

"What instrument?"

"Piano. I haven't played in years."

"How come?"

"I wasn't very good."

John found that hard to believe. "Says who?"

"My teacher. I was technically proficient but I lacked soul."

Which was typical of the people in Rodney's life before Atlantis. Why none of them had ever been able to see beyond the brain to the person, John had no idea. "You have soul."

Beside him, John felt Rodney shake his head. "I came to terms with it a long time ago."

The resignation in his voice made John want to visit that teacher with a Wraith in tow, or at least Ronon. Or maybe Teyla. "Listen. You have soul, a brave soul and a good heart, and anyone who can't see that is blind or stupid or both."

Rodney didn't answer right away, but after a few measures, he brushed his knuckle against the backs of John's fingers. "Thanks."

There wasn't anything for Rodney to thank him for; John had simply been telling the truth. John stroked the backs of Rodney's fingers with his knuckle in answer. 

Somehow they ended up with the backs of their hands pressed together and Rodney's fingers resting between John's. Closing his eyes, John concentrated on the music.

John must've dosed off, because when he opened his eyes again, the room was nearly dark, and the only sound was the soft in and out of Rodney's breathing. John glanced at the digital clock next to Rodney's bed. The mess was going to stop serving in a few minutes. His stomach rumbled, making its view on that possibility clear.

Disconnecting his hand from Rodney's, John sat up and looked down at Rodney.

Rodney opened a single eye, the contentment on his face fading slightly.

"How 'bout I go get us some dinner?" John asked keeping his voice soft so as not to disturb the quiet.

"Okay," Rodney said, sounding as lazy as he looked.

John leaned down and brushed his lips to Rodney's. "I'll be right back."

***

The mess was serving meatloaf, and John managed to snag Rodney the end piece. He hummed to himself as he made his way back to their quarters, bits and pieces of the melody he'd heard earlier.

There were two open beers on the table when John got back to their quarters. The lights were on, but low. The music had changed.

"Barenaked Ladies?" John asked when Rodney came over to relieve him of a tray.

"Yes."

"I like them."

"I know."

Aside from a short observation about the New Atlantis moon, which was hanging low and bright in the sky, Rodney didn't say much. John didn't mind the quiet. It was just that kind of night.

He was lying in his bed, drifting on the edge of sleep, when he realized what he'd done. His eyes flew open, and he clutched at the blankets, breathing hard.

Rodney hadn't said anything, which meant it wasn't a big deal. Because if it had been a big deal Rodney would've said something. Rodney always said something.

Maybe it hadn't even been a kiss. Okay, so John's lips had touched Rodney's, but only for an instant, a fraction of an instant, a microsecond. If it had been a real kiss Rodney would have said something or done something and Rodney hadn't. So that meant it hadn't been a real kiss.

It had just been a little moment between friends, that's all. Just a moment, a nice, friend-type moment.

Relieved, John closed his eyes again. 

At least another hour ticked by before he fell asleep.

***

John dodged Rodney at dinner and put off going home by paying a visit to Teyla and Kanaan. It was 2000 when John finally went back to their quarters.

"Hey," Rodney said, looking up from his laptop when John entered.

"Sorry I'm late," John said, even though there wasn't any reason for him to apologize. Rodney was his roommate, not his wife. John pushed that thought really far away and dropped onto the couch. 

Before he could reach for his laptop, Rodney came over and sat beside him. "You want to watch _Primeval_?"

John was surprised by the offer. Any science fiction show with time travel was pretty much guaranteed to make Rodney apoplectic, even the tribbles episode of _Deep Space Nine_. John, though, found the idea of fighting raptors in a shopping mall pretty damned amusing. "Sure."

Rodney put his laptop on the coffee table and with a couple of clicks the show came up on the screen.

"You had it all ready to go."

"Figured you'd say 'yes,'" Rodney said and leaned back, his shoulder resting comfortably against John's. 

***  
Nearly two full weeks after the not-kiss as John chose not to think of it, they went to P57-389, home of the Z'raturans. The Z'raturans were nice people with fertile land on which they grew beans and something that was almost a tomato. 

Unfortunately, they had a female leader who was nothing like Teyla, not that anyone was like Teyla. Jirta had red hair and a lot of curves, and she smiled in a way that reminded John of the women who had frequented the Air Force bars outside of every base where he'd ever been stationed. It was the kind of siren smile that came with hooks.

And it was trained on him.

"Yes, well," Rodney said, coming to stand next to John and sliding a hand from the center of John's back down to rest possessively just above John's ass, "as fascinating as your fruits are, the Colonel's job is to stay with me."

"It is," John said and tried to look as though he regretted his assignment. 

Teyla stepped into the conversation at that point, and John forgot all about Jirta. He was too busy thinking about the hand on his back and how many times it had been there over the last couple of weeks.

And not just his back. Rodney had taken to putting his hand on John's thigh when he rose from the couch, and squeezing John's shoulder when saying good-night. 

It wasn't that Rodney had never touched John. They touched one another in manly guy ways, usually on the shoulder or upper arm, occasionally with a slap to the back, or the back of the head, although John tried to save those for when Rodney really deserved it. But John had always touched a little more than Rodney, which was kind of weird now that John thought about it. He was used to being the one who didn't reach out.

"Come on," Rodney said, and John walked with him towards the village square, his mind abuzz.

John didn't mind the extra touching; he didn't. It's just that if Rodney had started touching John more than before maybe the not-kiss than maybe the not-kiss had been a kiss. 

John had no idea what that meant.

***  
"You didn't actually want her, did you?" Rodney said.

John lifted his eyes from the book he hadn't been reading. "What?"

"Jirta," Rodney said from the other end of the couch. "You weren't interested, were you?"

"No." John shook his head. "Did I act interested?" 

"No, but you've been a little weird since we got back."

"Just thinking."

"Try not to hurt anything," Rodney said and shifted, resting his back against the arm of the couch and lifting his feet onto John's lap before turning back to his laptop.

John thought about pointing out that he wasn't an ottoman. But he didn't. Instead, he rested his paperback on Rodney's shins. 

This was the problem. Touching. Lots of touching. It was innocuous touching. John was pretty sure of that. It certainly wasn't sexual, not really. There had been the kiss, but that had been a not-kiss, so short and light as to be non-existent, and not the least bit sexual. Hell, John hadn't even noticed he'd done it.

The touching was platonic, John told himself. Just because he was hyperaware of it, that didn't mean it wasn't completely innocent. 

John glanced at the other end of the couch. Rodney's shoulders were hunched and he looked as if he wouldn't notice if a nuclear bomb went off right next to him. Of course, he'd probably be vaporized instantly and wouldn't have time to notice, but still. He was focused. Rodney was always focused, except when he wasn't.

Wrapping a hand around Rodney's shin, John reminded himself that innocent touching between friends wasn't anything to get all worked about.

But maybe he should to get a second opinion just to be safe.

***

"Teyla," John called, jogging to catch up with her. 

"Good morning, John," she said as John fell into step beside her.

"You got a minute?" 

"I was just about to take Torren for a run, perhaps you'd like to join us." Her tone held a hint of challenge.

"Tell you what, I'll change and meet you at your quarters in five."

"Good."

Clad in gray sweats and a white t-shirt, John put his hand in front of the chime to Teyla and Kanaan's quarters. The door slid open and John stepped inside. Teyla was strapping Torren into the running stroller John and Rodney had gotten for her when Atlantis had been on Earth.

"John," Torren said, his voice high but definitely not small. John couldn't tell if the smile on his face was pleasure at seeing John or pride at having mastered another word. Of course, he still hadn't mastered 'Rodney,' much to Rodney's annoyance.

"Hey buddy," John said, squatting down in front of him. "You want to go for a run?"

"Run," Torren said, his smile brightening even more, making him look like his mother.

"Want me to push you?" John asked, looking up at Teyla. "That okay with you?"

"Whatever you like."

John stood and moved around behind the stroller. "Let's go."

They set off at a gentle jog until they were outside of the populated corridors where Teyla picked up the pace. John matched her.

Teyla was guiding them along a path he and Ronon often ran, but at the midway point he felt himself starting to tire. He hadn't realized how much harder running was when your arms were locked into one position. 

"Would you like me to take over?" Teyla asked, slowing slightly.

"I got it," John said.

"What was it you wished to speak with me about?" 

"What makes you think I wanted to talk?"

Teyla looked at him; even though John was looking straight ahead he could feel her eyes on the side of his face.

"Touching," he blurted, then cursed himself for not approaching it in a way that didn't make him seem like an awkward adolescent. "I, um... in other cultures, do people touch more?"

"I have noticed that your people are more restrained about such things than others," Teyla said, and John frowned, trying to determine if there was amusement in her voice.

"So touching between friends, platonic touching, not, you know, sexual touching, that's normal, right?"

"Everyone needs to be touched, even you and Rodney."

"What makes you think I'm talking about Rodney?"

"You have seemed more comfortable with one another lately."

"Yeah," John said, because they were and it was good. He liked it. He just wasn't sure he was supposed to like it. Or what liking it meant.

"There is nothing wrong with touching a friend. We all need to be touched."

"Right, right. I knew that."

Teyla grinned at him. "Race you to the pier," she said, breaking into a sprint. 

"Your mother is sneaky," John told Torren as they set off after her.

***

John glared at his clock. 0600. He'd fallen into his bed less than three hours earlier, but his body didn't seem to care. It thought it was morning.

Pushing off the covers, he stumbled into the bathroom then over to the refrigerator. Ignoring his body's demand for caffeine, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and carried it over to the couch. He was getting too old for all-nighters, especially when they lasted more than one night.

By the time he finished his cereal his eyes were sliding shut again and John lay down on the couch.

He woke to the sound of Rodney opening the door in the cabinet beneath the coffeemaker. "You didn't make coffee," Rodney said.

"What time is it?" John asked without bothering to sit up.

"About 1100."

"You don't need coffee. You need to sleep some more."

"I slept for eight hours, I think."

"You were up for almost 48."

"I'm too old for this," Rodney said.

John heard him pouring a bowl of cereal. "That makes two of us, buddy."

Carrying his bowl, Rodney sat on the edge of the couch. John turned onto his side to give Rodney more room. Rodney didn't say a word as he ate and John didn't feel the need to fill the silence.

When Rodney placed his empty bowl on the coffee table, John wrapped a hand around Rodney's biceps. "Come on. Lay down."

"I don't think we can both fit."

"Just lay down, Rodney."

Rodney lay on his side in front of John, and John slid an arm around his waist molding his body to Rodney's.

Rodney sighed softly.

John closed his eyes.

***  
John's nose twitched. Turning his face from where he'd kind of smooshed it into the back of Rodney's neck, he looked up. Judging from the way the sun was slanting into the room it was late afternoon.

He didn't want to move. His arm had fallen asleep where it was trapped under him. His bladder was full. He needed a shower and so did Rodney. But his body was molded to Rodney's: his knees tucked in behind Rodney's, his chest pressed to Rodney's back, his arm around Rodney's waist. 

Rodney's ass snug against his groin.

John closed his eyes. He wasn't going to think about that. 

"Ugh," Rodney said.

"Yeah."

"I need to piss."

Pulling his arm from around Rodney's waist John let him go. Rodney stood with a groan and staggered toward the bathroom. A few minutes later John heard the faint sound of the shower. It went straight to his bladder. The least Rodney could've done was given him a chance to piss first.

Missing the way Rodney's body had felt against his, John rolled onto his back and closed his eyes against the sunlight.

When Rodney came out of the shower John opened one eye to look at him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and there was a drop of water on his shoulder. 

"It's all yours," Rodney said.

John swallowed and pulled his eyes away from Rodney's bare shoulder. "Thanks."

Rodney disappeared into his room and John headed for the shower.

The water washed more than two days worth of sweat from his skin, but somehow the impression created by having Rodney's body against his remained.

***

Leaning back in his chair, John watched Rodney talk, fork making circles in the air as he described the research notes he'd found on the jumper propulsion systems. John understood the basics, kinda, but he wasn't really trying to follow along. Watching was much more fun.

He was glad he'd worked out the whole touching thing, because now he could just relax and enjoy being with Rodney. After all, he'd slept spooned up to Rodney -- hard to get more intimate than that -- and it had been perfectly normal. Not weird, even with Rodney's ass snug up to his groin.

Just because he could, John slid lower in his seat, stretched out his leg, and gently bumped Rodney's ankle with the side of his food.

Rodney smiled, but his mouth and his hands didn't miss a beat.

***

"Ow," Rodney said with a wince, pulling his arm back from where it had been lingering over the chess board.

"What's the matter?"

"It hurts."

"I got that. What hurts?"

"Shoulder, neck, right along in here," Rodney said, raising his hand to the space between his right shoulder and neck.

"Did you go to the infirmary?"

"It's just tight muscles."

Pre-Keller Rodney had gone to the infirmary for a paper cut. Now he wouldn't go near the place unless he was in danger of losing a limb. John didn't think that was right. Rising from his chair, John walked around behind Rodney and placed his hands on Rodney's shoulder. He squeezed then pressed with his thumbs.

"Ow," Rodney said, lifting his right shoulder. "Not helping."

John ignored him, rubbing some more. Rubbing Rodney's shoulders wasn't quite like rubbing stone, but it was close. "What do you do to yourself?"

"I'm tense."

"I noticed."

"It's just how I am."

"No wonder you take baths all the time," John said, finding a knot and pressing on it with his thumb. He patted the side of Rodney's shoulder. "Come on."

He was halfway to the bathroom when he realized Rodney wasn't following. John looked over his shoulder. "Rodney. Bath."

"You sound like Torren," Rodney said, rising from his chair. He was looking at John a little oddly.

Ignoring the look, John went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet in the tub, playing with the temperature until it was as hot as he thought Rodney could stand. Picking up Rodney's bubble bath, he poured some in, watching the bubbles form for a moment before looking up at Rodney. "What are you waiting for? Get undressed."

Giving him another weird look, Rodney unzipped his jacket.

John averted his eyes because while friends might touch, they didn't watch one another undress. He didn't look back until he heard Rodney sigh as he slid into the water. "Good?"

"Mmmm," Rodney said, still looking at John a little funny. 

Unbuttoning his cuffs, John rolled up his sleeves, removing his armband and watch. Then he walked around behind Rodney and dipped his hands into the water, getting them wet before resting them on Rodney's shoulders and dropping to his knees on the step behind the tub..

"Oh," Rodney said as John began to kneed.

"Thought you'd approve." Digging in with his thumbs, John rubbed the tight spot just under Rodney's neck.

"I do. Wholeheartedly."

Smiling, John continued to rub. Rodney's skin was smooth beneath his hands, almost soft. As he rubbed he could feel Rodney relax, his head tipping forward. Sliding his hands beneath the water, John began working on the middle of Rodney's back. Rodney leaned forward, giving him more room to work.

The warm bare skin felt good beneath his hands, the water letting them slide easily, and John focused on the sensation, the simple feel of skin on skin, forgetting about everything else. 

When he reached the small of Rodney's back, John slid one arm around the front of Rodney's shoulders, holding him in place as he pressed the palm of his other hand into the tight muscle. The position put him close enough to feel Rodney's warmth, smell his scent. John pulled in a breath and leaned a little closer.

Rodney groaned, a soft, low sound, and John was abruptly aware of how close he was to Rodney and the position of his hands. 

Pulling his hands away, John stumbled to his feet. "That seems to have done the trick."

"Yes, um, thank you," Rodney said, turning to look at him, eyes widening as they landed on John's groin.

"I'll just leave you to it then," John said and fled.

Back in his room he locked the door before dropping onto the bed. He was hard. He'd gotten hard while touching Rodney. It was supposed to have been a massage, a favor for a friend, his closest friend, maybe the closest friend he'd ever had, and he'd gotten off on it, or at least been turned on by it.

Which, okay, it had been a long time since he'd had sex. So long he'd kind of gotten used to not having it. Maybe, maybe it was just a normal reaction to touching someone after so long.

Or maybe it was the feel of broad shoulders and a strong back beneath his hands, the solid presence that was Rodney.

He was so screwed.

***

"I think I'm attracted to Rodney."

Teyla didn't even pause. She was running beside him, pushing Torren's stroller far more easily than John had. "When Kanaan and I were growing up, I never noticed him, not romantically. He was just there. My friend."

"What happened?"

"One day I looked at him and all I wanted to do was kiss him. So I did."

John frowned. He didn't want to kiss Rodney. Except he had.

"I kissed him because I loved him."

"Oh," John said.

"Oooohhhhh," Torren echoed. 

Teyla laughed.

***

John thought about Teyla's words as he walked back to their quarters, as he showered and dressed, as he ate lunch with Ronon.

Maybe he'd kissed Rodney because he loved him. He knew he loved Rodney. That part was easy. Hell, loving Rodney was easy, no matter how difficult other people seemed to find it. 

Kissing Rodney was easy, too, although it had only been a small kiss, barely a kiss at all. 

The real question was: did he want to have sex with Rodney?

Leaning back in his desk chair, John considered the idea. There'd be kissing, of course. Real kissing that lasted more than a second or two. Rodney probably liked kissing. He'd be a weird Rodney-mix of greedy and generous. John closed his eyes and tried to imagine it, the feel of Rodney's lips on his. 

It was surprisingly easy, maybe because he'd kissed Rodney once already.

There'd be touching, too, if they had sex. Rodney's soft skin under his hands, like in the tub, only he'd get to touch more than Rodney's back. He'd be able to touch Rodney's chest, with its hair and little pink nipples.

John opened his eyes. Oh, god, he knew what Rodney's nipples looked like. When had he noticed that?

He really was screwed.

***

"We should finish our chess game," Rodney said.

Nodding, John pushed a piece of chicken across his plate with his fork.

"Are you going to eat your dinner or play with it?" Rodney asked.

John glared at him.

"McKay's got a point," Ronon said.

John glared at him, too. "I'm not that hungry. It happens. Never to you two, but to normal people."

Reaching across the table, Ronon snagged a piece of John's chicken, and John pushed his plate toward him.

***

"We don't have to play if you're not up to it," Rodney said as they made their way back to their quarters after dinner.

"I'm fine," John said. What else was he going to say? It's possible I might want to have sex with you.

Turning, Rodney pressed a hand to John's forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"Rodney," John said, glancing up and down the hallway.

Rodney withdrew his hand. "If you're sure you're not sick..." 

"I'm fine."

"All right, all right. But I won't feel right if I beat you because of a handicap."

"Yes, you will."

"You're right, I will," Rodney conceded with a grin.

***

It had been Rodney's turn when they left off and as soon as they sat Rodney pushed a pawn into the path of John's bishop, cutting of his planned attack.

"You've been studying the board," John said.

"Oh, please, you telegraphed that strategy at least four moves ago."

With the pawn out of the way, John moved his queen. Always have a fall-back strategy, that was his motto. Another five moves, six tops, and Rodney's king would be his.

Rodney took the queen with his knight.

After that, it was all down hill with 'mate coming in less than five moves.

"You sure you're all right," Rodney asked as he began putting away the pieces.

"I'm fine."

"This isn't about last night, is it? Because physical contact, it does things to a person..."

John blanched, but Rodney wasn't looking at him.

"I didn't mean... but you were touching me and well..." Rodney said.

Rodney had noticed and Rodney knew he'd been weird lately, almost since they'd moved in together. Rodney made him weird. "I love you," John said. 

"Oh."

"I think that's why I, you know, reacted."

"Oh," Rodney said.

"Teyla said Kanaan had been her friend since they were kids and one day she just wanted to kiss him."

"Is that what happened to you? When you kissed me?"

"I don't know. It just seemed like the thing to do."

"Huh."

John didn't have an answer for that so he focused on picking up the rest of the chess pieces. Rodney watched. He was still watching when John picked up the board and carried it to the desk. "I should turn in. It's late." When Rodney didn't answer, John said, "Good-night," and went into his room.

Stripping to his boxers, John crawled into his bed and stared at the ceiling. He'd said what needed to be said. He couldn't try to hide something like that, not from Rodney. Although he probably could've said it better, maybe planned a little, not said it out of nowhere like that. He could hardly blame Rodney for saying "oh" and "huh" and little else. Maybe he should recommend declarations of love to those people who thought Rodney talked too much. It was the only thing John had ever seen reduce him to single syllables.

His door slid open and John lifted himself onto his elbows. 

"You do realize you went to bed at 7:30,'' Rodney said, stepping into the room.

"I need the sleep."

"Right," Rodney said. He looked around the room, before his eyes settled on John. "Should I start looking for the pod?"

"I haven't been body snatched."

"The John Sheppard I know doesn't talk about his feelings."

Sitting up, John picked at a bit of fluff on his blanket and said, "I'm different with you. Better." Drawing in a breath, he looked up at Rodney. "You make me want to be better."

John had never seen anyone actually look pole axed before. "I do?" Rodney asked, sounding humbled and confused. It was a weird sound.

"Yeah. That's why I talked to Teyla. Thought I should get advice from somebody who doesn't mess this stuff up."

"Which doesn't include either of us."

"No," John agreed.

Rodney sat on the edge of John's bed, facing the window. "You talked to Teyla about us. Voluntarily."

"I did," John said, suddenly quite proud of himself. Because he had talked to Teyla about his feelings all on his own without anyone having to drag it out of him.

Turning, Rodney looked at him. His mouth was set in that slightly off-kilter line that meant he was thinking, but there was something in his eyes that made John go still, even as his heart sped up. "For the record, I want to make it clear that I--"

"I know," John said, because Rodney didn't have to say it.

Rodney glared at him. "You do not get to be the bigger man here, so shut up."

Nodding, John pressed his lips tightly together, but he could feel the corners curling upward.

"I love you."

"Friend kind of love or the other kind?"

"Do you really think there are kinds?" Rodney asked, his eyes meeting John's.

"I don't know. Maybe. What I feel for you is kind of like what I feel for Ronon and Teyla, only more intense."

"But you don't feel the same way about Teyla as you do Ronon, do you?"

John frowned. He hadn't really thought of it that way before. "I guess not."

Rodney nodded. "It's individual." He moved both hands in a circle. "Every person we love, we love differently because they're different and we're different with them."

Which made a lot of sense, although John didn't want to ask how Rodney had reached that conclusion. Nodding, he said, "And it can change over time."

"Exactly," Rodney said, pointing at him.

John grinned.

"And in our case it now includes physical intimacy," Rodney said.

John's eyebrows went up. "It does?"

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"It was. I think. I just wasn't expecting you -- after the 'oh' thing --"

"Oh, for--" Rodney said and kissed him.

John kept still for the half-second it took his brain to register that Rodney's lips were on his. Then he pressed back.

Sitting back, Rodney smiled at him, one of the really big smiles he got when he was pleased with both himself and the world. "I kissed you."

Feeling his own lips curling into a smile as broad as Rodney's, John nodded. "Yes, you did."

"When you were sitting in your bed, naked." Rodney's smile faded slightly. "Are you naked?"

"No. I've still got my boxers on."

"I'd have kissed you even if you were."

"I'm sure you would have." Putting his hand on Rodney's shoulder he gave it a squeeze, then slid it up to rest against Rodney's neck and stroked the side of Rodney's jaw with his thumb. "We don't have to hurry. We can take our time, figure this out."

"Neck on the couch."

"Sure, we can do that."

"And you can give me more of those back rubs, maybe when we're both in the tub."

"Sounds good."

Leaning in, Rodney kissed him again. Slower this time, lingering, as generous as John had known he would be.

"You realize I'm almost naked, right?" John asked when they parted.

"I am aware of that, yes," Rodney said, just before his lips met John's.

***

"I kissed Rodney," John said. He had to work to get the words out. Teyla set a grueling pace some days.

"I'm proud of you."

"Me, too," John said. Leaning over the stroller, he asked, "What do you think Torren? Should we race your mother?" before putting on burst of speed.

Teyla still beat him to the pier.

John didn't mind. Any beatings his ego took Rodney would kiss and make better later. In fact, John was looking forward to it.


End file.
